


Ashes of the Past

by Neshtaswritings



Series: Ashes of the Past [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21688510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neshtaswritings/pseuds/Neshtaswritings
Summary: Moira reflects over the past few years as she prepares for a Talon mission. She tries to pull her mind from the past, but it can claw at one so.
Relationships: Moira O'Deorain/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Series: Ashes of the Past [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563463
Comments: 5
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a VERY loose interpretation of the Overwatch timeline, it's best to call it an AU.

Stomping out of the rain and into the hidden Talon facility, I groaned as I brushed water off my shoulders. Removing my soggy jacket, then the tacky hat I never seemed to want to let go of, I sighed for what must have been the millionth time this morning. 

I looked down at myself, neatened the bow tie I put on this morning, and smoothed out my clothes. A tweed vest with crisp white dress shirt and a pair of dark grey slacks. It was important to me to look professional at all times. One of the few points of pride I had left. Folding my coat after shaking it out, I walked into the facility. 

Moira O’Deorain: The great failed scientist. Ex-promising student, ex-legitimate scientist, ex-Overwatch, ex-Blackwatch, now current terrorist. What an impressive resume. Madam Curie would be jealous. I sighed as I made my way down the cold corridor. 

Luckily, things were relatively quiet in the early morning. Even terrorists like to sleep in, I suppose. Walking up to the lab entrance, I tapped in the code at the panel. The doors unhitched with a click, then swung open, I stepped into my lab. The cool, clean air felt good as I took in a lungful of it. 

Even after all these years. A lab always made me feel excited. The potential, the possibilities, the limitlessness of science. Sometimes, I wondered why I keep going, despite having a life of near-total loss. But as I stepped into the laboratory, I realized why I did it all. 

I had to. It was what I was best at. The sense of discovery is what drove me on. Even after all these years I knew so little about the human genome. What could be unlocked if I learned all I could? What could be passed down through the annals of scientific history? I couldn’t give up, no matter the cost. 

Walking up to a small closet, I hung my coat and hat. I had one more object with me, a newspaper, damp from the rain. I normally detest the news, but the headline of this society paper caught my eye: ‘Overwatch hero Mercy ties the knot’. I rumbled to myself as I slapped it down on the counter

It’s been seven years since everything went wrong. Seven long years since I've last seen Angela Zigler. All that time ago, against impossible odds, I had managed to capture the heart of the fair doctor. The romance only lasted a year or so. But I went for it all: Marriage, children...My hands balled into fists at that last part.

My vision went hazy as I tried to force away the memories, the grief. My breath hitched and ran away from me. Control. I had to maintain control. Start with your breathing, Moira. I sucked in air desperately, forcing the thoughts to pass. 

Truthfully, over the years, I had if Angela had moved on, if their relationship left any scars. A part of me, a selfish part, wanted her to never get over it. ‘Serves her right’ I’ve thought in my darker days. But the reality of things was that Dr. Angela Ziegler was a far more developed person than I could ever hope to be. And thus, her having moved on made perfect sense.

And so, this is how my life had wound up: I was a disgrace, all of my dreams turned to dust, and my love life was about as barren as a desert. AND I’ve had to join a group of dangerous mercenaries, just to keep myself in a bloody lab. Everything had fallen apart in the space of a few months, all because I couldn’t just…tell Angela the truth. 

Opening one of the cabinets, I took out the bottle of Scotch and a glass that were awaiting me. I downed a glass straight away, already pouring another. To top all of this off, now Angela was getting married. Firmly cementing the fact that it was truly and fully over between us. Even in the seven years of silence, I held out this absurd hope that we could somehow reconnect. This was proof positive of my foolishness. 

I normally don't drink, despite the hidden bottle stashed in my workspace. It’s just that I never really had many crutches. For a great long time my way of coping was to just repress all my feelings, especially my fears, and then just hide beneath a mask of cynicism. (truly, the ex-Catholic’s way) But once I met her, Angela became my support. Lacking that, I had tried to return to my old ways. Liquor tended to help fill in the gaps. 

“Getting a start to the morning?” A voice came from the lab entrance. Just as I was about to down my second glass. I stopped and set it down. Glancing over to see the rather large frame of Akande, the current leader of Talon. I let out a coughing sort of sound, turning to face him. 

“Oh it’s...it’s not what it looks like!” I protested, trying to casually flip the paper to hide the headline. “I just ah…” I had no clue what to say. Instead, I just sniffed and held my hands behind my back, taking on my calm professional persona like usual. “What can I help you with, sir?” my voice came out a bit grated, I tried to ignore it. 

I saw his eyes flash to the newspaper then back to mine. No doubt he’d heard the news by now. Akande was an expert at keeping tabs on things. Did he come here to offer comfort? Impossible. He’d likely come here to leverage this for some advantage. I had not met a man more cunning than him. He was an expert. Far more so than people assumed of him. 

Akande was also one of the few people I knew who towered over me. Not that I wouldn’t feel small right now in front of anyone. But Akande’s impressive height added to my feelings of smallness. All he did was nod, folding his arms behind him as well. “We need you for an outing, Moira. Are you able?” 

I simply shrugged, raising an eyebrow. Talking shop was preferable to literally any other subject right now. But I also didn’t want to appear too eager, otherwise this might become a habit. “I’m more curious about what's going on…” I intoned, crossing my arms across my chest. 

Akande cleared his throat. “As you might well be aware, the recall is happening. Overwatch is reforming.” The dry sarcasm in his voice told me that none of mine was needed. I tried to keep detached looking and nodded for him to continue. “We don't have many who share our views, Moira. Our agents are spread thin, and with Overwatch rising again, we’ll soon be outclassed. I feel that it’s wisest to seek out allies.” 

“That makes sense…” I raised a brow. “I suppose I’m confused as to why you’re asking me to go out on the field? I’m not exactly the most warm person, nor do I scream diplomat.” I said with a slight sneer. 

Akande raised a brow at me, picking up on the self deprecation. “Well…” He began. “You’re our best medic we have. And your tech is remarkable for field work. If things go badly and there’s violence, I want you there for the team.” He said this part sternly, as if there was no room for argument. Instead of my usual push back to being put on the field, I just shrugged this time.

“Sure, when do we leave?” I said with a wave of my hand. Akande was taken aback by the reaction, he blinked, then nodded. 

“We leave in an hour.”

“Very well, I’ll be there with bells on, sir.” I said with a grin. Honestly? I was thankful for this. Field work was full of distractions, and danger. Who knows? Maybe I’d catch a bullet to my head. Put me out of all this bloody misery. I shook the thought from my head, collapsing in a chair once Akande left me alone. 

In a little under an hour, I was standing on the flight deck, watching as the transport was loaded up. Upon reflection, I realized I never asked Akande who they were meeting. It didn’t matter, all I was here for was patching up any wounds if things went sour. 

I leaned against a supply crate, watching the flight crew with boredom. A few other agents have been assigned to this detail. Gabrial was coming, of course. He’d most likely handle everything. And Widowmaker came along for fire support. A few other low-level agents were also coming, perhaps to make a show of power? I didn’t really care either way. 

“All ready, Moira?” Came the dark voice of Reyes, appearing beside me in a puff of smoke. 

“Of course.” I answered curtly. 

“I’m amazed doomfist was able to convince you to go.” He chided, I didn’t bother to play along, just watched the crew work silently. After a few moments, he finally spoke up again. “I’m sorry abo-”

“Spar me.” I pinched the bridge of my nose “I...I’m not in the mood, let’s just get going.” He simply nodded at that, breaking off to head towards the transport. 

“Fine doctor.” he said, his voice low and gravely. 

I didn’t bother saying anything, I just followed him along to the ship. I really didn’t want to snap at Gabe. He was a good man, and honestly, I owed him greatly. If it weren’t for him, I’d have never joined Blackwatch, and never have met Angela. My work would’ve died off long ago. His support let it live for just a little longer. Even if it was all dead and gone, I still thanked him for the second chance. 

Of course, my research led to his...current state. I did feel guilty about that, but truth be told. He was fully aware of the risks each step of the way. My hand instinctively went to my scarred arm. I also paid for that experiment too. 

As the door to the ship lowered, I spied Gabe and Widowmaker boarding first. I waited to get in last, no need to appear like I’m rushing. Let everyone else stow their gear and settle in. Stepping up the ramp, I glanced around the small cabin: Gabe had settled into the pilot’s seat with our local sniper taking up the navigator’s chair. 

Well, I never passed my flight courses so that works for me. I hoped the journey was not too long as I strapped myself in. The modified valkrie suit felt heavier and more stiff than usual, I tried to tell myself it was just because I haven’t worn it in a while. 

We worked on these together, Angela and I. The two Talon agents sat across from me, obscured by their masks. I tried to regard them with as cool an expression as I could muster, despite the fact that my mind was awash with images of Angie right now. God, Angie. I missed her so much. 

I tried to fight it, I tried to refuse it. I even tried to bury my feelings in my work. But the truth of the matter was my heart still ached for her, and it hurt like hell to be apart from her. Seven years of separation, and I was still not healed from it.


	2. Not doing well...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As she heads out on her mission, Moira tries her best to forget the past and focus on the task at hand. However, things don't work out as planned for her. As usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am playing fast and loose with the timeline and lore here. I tried to stick as close as possible to things, I hope it all comes out ok!

A few hours later, we touched down in some mountainous area. I was told it was somewhere in the wild lands of America. I know that the deadlock gang ran quite a few of the dust bowl towns around here. Were we searching for their help? Seemed on odd choice for a group that stayed so neutral. 

I glanced over to Gabe, who was still at the controls. He clicked a few switches and the engines started to cool down. He got up, nodded to me and opened the ramp to exit in front of me. The sun pierced through the darkness of the cabin, I had to shield my eyes just to make my way down the ramp. 

Everyone else stepped out, weapons at the ready I noted. I came out last, clicking on my biotics rig, feeling the hum of the machines as they started up. The confidence I usually felt when in my full gear flooded me. Useful, but also a dangerous feeling. Confidence can allow you to make the calls needed, but it can also make you stupid. And on the battlefield, the stupid often perish. 

As I managed to adjust my poor Irish eyes to the sun, I looked around. Gabe had already assigned everyone their tasks. Widowmaker was gone, probably having found a high perch to assess the field. The rest of the agents were falling into step with Gabe, as did I. “I just need you to stand there and say nothing, Moira.” he said tersely. 

“Oh, what confidence you have in me, old friend.” He laughed at the quip. 

“I know you well enough to know that even I have better social skills that you, doctor.” He said with a chuckle. Glancing around, I raised a brow. 

“So...we’re meeting deadlock?” 

“There’s been an upset in the ranks a few weeks ago.” Gabe explained. “Their leader went missing, we’re trying to see what we can do to um, offer a restructuring.” I smiled at that. 

“Ah, strike while the iron is hot? Devious.” 

“...We are a terrorist organization.” Even with the mask, I could detect Gabe’s smirk. It was nice to at least chat with someone. It took my mind off of the recent events that seemed to plague me. 

We all walked up to the meeting place in question: An open courtyard surrounded on all sides by crumbling adobe buildings. I looked around at our surroundings, with a tap of a button on the side of my headpiece, a visor slid over my eyes. I was thankful I had installed it the other week. It helped to reduce the sun’s blinding light, which beat down like an oppressive force. I couldn’t imagine living here. 

It looked relatively safe. The buildings around us were mostly ruins, and didn’t exactly offer cover points. I noted that a few agents had already circled around and scouted the area. That would seem there that there was no threat of an ambush. I let out a sigh of relief, maybe this would be uneventful? 

Gabe and I stood, looking around, and after a moment a shiver ran up my spine, despite the heat. He glanced at me, probably feeling the same thing. Before either of us could react, our comms crackled to life. “We have hostiles, Overwatch!” My eyes widened. 

I barely had time to dash for cover when the first rocket hit the ground near us. Gabe was able to dissipate in time, but I hadn’t been quick enough. My ability to fade was still something I had a hard time controlling. The force knocked me back, I slammed into the wall of one of the buildings. 

Blood pounding in my head, I managed to look up in time to see the winged Pharah swooping over us. Great, she takes my ex-wife now she’s going to kill me. I’m sure if I had a therapist, they’d have a field day with that one.

Scrambling for cover, my vision swam. I stumbled and started to topple off balance. Then I felt the sensation of weightlessness. Oh, gravity shut off, fascinating...perhaps I should study this. Wait no, that’s not how the world works, not unless a certain scientist was suddenly here.

The additional feeling of slamming into something hard made me realize that I was just being hurled about by another concussive force. Well, this is why the scientific method exists, to determine such things succinctly. I’ll have to write a report on ‘being hurled about by explosives’.

I wasn’t sure what happened. But as I struggled to raise my head, I could see I was sprawled out in the ruins of a small house. Something hurt, my stomach. It was burning in agony. I let out a groan as my hand went to it. 

“Moira? Moira!? This is Reaper come in!” The comms crackled in my ear, it was too loud, too much. I had to fight the urge to irrationally rip it from my ear and toss the earpiece aside. Instead, I clicked on the button. 

“Yes, I-I’m here...Gabe, I’m not doing well, I think I was hit no idea...no idea wh-where.” My words tumble from my mouth sounding more like babbles than clear phrases. 

I tried to lean against a wall, the idea of the soldier stalking me was suddenly of little concern. I felt the world lurch, pain flashing over my senses. As I drew my hand to my face, the blood soaking it was fair indication that I was...not in a healthy state. 

“Stay there, I’m coming for you.” Gabe was running, I could tell. I shook my head. “

“Gabe, no...She’s close you...my wound’s bad just um…” I swallowed, my voice dry. “Make sure no one messes up my lab, ok?” There was a moment of silence on his end. 

“I’m sorry.” The comm line died. 

Daring to glance down, I saw that my insides were on the outside. That’s very much not good. Excellent diagnosis Dr. Deo’rain. With such sharp skills, I should have become an actual medical doctor. It was still daytime, and I was barely sitting in the shade from the ruins I was in. Despite the heat and sun, I felt cold, the pain had almost covertly given way to a chilly numbness. I shivered. 

What an end. On the surface I should be disappointed with such a magnanimous conclusion to my life. But given recent developments in my private life, this is fitting. Like a nice little bit justice. I coughed, tasting copper. Holding up my other arm, I tapped at the controls of my suit, systems are all down. Even if I wanted to, my bionic grasp would be unusable right now. 

The sound of boots crunching against the ground brought my senses into sharp relief. I struggled to move, to crawl away, but I realized I had no life left in my limbs. I looked up to see her, Pharah the shining champion, enter the barely-intact building. 

She was tall, she seemed to tower above everything. Her armor added to the effect as well. It seemed to add a foot or so to her overall height. I sagged against the wall, still matching my gaze with hers. Her expression was unreadable. She held her weapon at a rested position, eyeing me with seeming detachment. 

I let out a laugh, which turned into a cough. Clutching my guts, the pain burned through me again. “What are you waiting for? D-do the world a bloody favor.” I spat out, barely able to force the words from my throat. 

The woman made no response, she reached up and touched the side of her helmet. “We have one Talon medic down. Send in the retrieval team to get her. Better be quick.” I caught the slightest smirk on her lips. “She looks pretty mulched.” I had no idea what my expression was. All I felt was pain, coldness, and an intense weight in my body. 

I tried to do something, anything, but I sagged against the wall again. My eyes grew heavy, I tried to fight it but the darkness quickly overtook me. As I looked up at the world, for what felt like one last time, I swear I saw a light. Something had come into the room, standing beside the woman. I could swear, it leaned over and spoke something to her. She turned to walk away. 

An angel, it was an angel. My head was swimming, filled with pain and fog, but I dimply surmised that this was my end. The angel was here to take me to whatever awaited me. Funny. I always assumed I’d meet a devil at my end...


	3. Deal for the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another delay, sorry about that folks! It's been a hectic few months for me and I kind of dropped off this. But now that I kind of broke through my block, I have another chapter up! This time we get to hear a bit more about how Moira got to where she is (but where is she going to end up!?)

When I was thirteen I was hospitalized for the first time in my life. I was hit by a car when walking home after dark. I stayed at school extra late to work on some assignments, and really, to avoid the rest of the children. They were not exactly kind to me but I doubt that surprised anyone. 

I barely remember what happened. Just...feeling as if I was suddenly in the air, then blackness.When I woke up, it was a storm of confusion and panic. I was hooked up to machines and had no clue what was going on. But, I was surrounded by my family. 

My father was hovering by the bed, holding his hat in his hands, fretting in ways I’d never seen before. Mother busied herself by shouting at the nurses, demanding I was treated better, despite the fact that everything had been done to treat my wounds. 

I had a limp for months afterwards, but I’d never forget how unafraid I felt. My family was there, I was protected. 

The second time I was in the hospital, it was shortly after college. A lab experiment went wrong. I was running on caffeine and no sleep, made a mistake. Boom. I don’t remember what happened after that as well. I just remembered a bright flash, then looking up at the ceiling as red filled my vision. 

This time, when I woke up, it was similar. My family was there, worried expressions, all of them. My brothers made sure I had everything I needed. Again, I was not afraid. They were there for me.

In the weeks and weeks of recovery, my family helped me so much. I had to have reconstructive surgery on my face, and they were terribly supportive. All along, I kept thinking I was some solitary figure. A stoic woman who could stand on her own. But those two events made me realize I needed my family. 

The next time I was in the hospital, it was more the infirmary. I had gone ahead with the experimental serum that Gabe wanted me to develop. Talon was getting more dangerous, and he needed weapons. So, in my desperation, I injected myself with the mixture. 

This time, due to the confidential nature of my work, the only person I knew who was there was my then-wife, Angela. Of course, we fought. I was scared, alone and panicked. I said things I shouldn’t have. God, I wish I could go back there, cry, beg for her help. But I was too proud, cold, too stubborn. 

Angela was rightfully furious with me. Angry that I would experiment on myself like that without any sense of my own preservation. I tried to explain to her what I was doing, and why. But she would not hear it. That was the first time that I had a harder time with recovery. 

By the time I got out, no one was there to be with me. To support me. My family was more estranged, I had begun to sever contact. And to be honest, I was too ashamed to reach out to them. Things were rockier and rockier with Angela and I. And I was just too afraid of my family being ashamed of my failures. 

Now, when I woke in a hospital for the fourth time in my life, I was alone. My family had cut me off years ago. Once it was revealed that I was an agent of Talon. I still remember the letter from my mother. The slow, cold numbness that overtook me. I’d already had most of the important things in my life stipped from me. What’s one more? 

I blinked my eyes open, pain, confusion. But also a deep sense of...disappointment?Yes, it was disappointment I felt. I was alive. More pain and loneliness...but now with the added joy of a prison sentence. How joyous. 

I looked around. It was dark, the blinds were drawn. I looked at my good arm, an IV was sticking out of it. Someone knew not to try my bad arm. That wasn’t exactly odd, one would think at a glance it was clear. But still, it filled me with suspicion. 

I groaned, rolling my head to the side. Chairs lined one of the walls, likely for the patient’s family to sit and watch over them. They sat there, empty for me. I felt my heart ache. It was like a silent proof of my failure, of the vacuum that was my life. I closed my eyes, fighting the wave of panic that hit me. 

Where was I? Overwatch? I was captured right? What would become of me? They hadn’t killed me so perhaps...a trial? Oh god, for once please no. My entire embarrassment of a life dragged into the public eye. 

Wait, I took a few calming breaths. Calm down Moira. Technically, Overwatch is an unaffiliated group. They are as illegal as Talon right now. They can’t exactly reveal themselves like that. I calmed down a bit. Ok so...extrajudicial execution? No,that does not make sense. As, again, why wouldn’t they just do it in the field? 

Ok, let’s stop worrying about the future, let’s just focus on the present. I looked down at myself. Lifting the blankets, I noted I was in my underwear, oh god someone saw me like that. The bandages wrapped around my waist told me whoever patched me up had other things to focus on. 

I noted another bandage around my right thigh, I suppose in all the chaos I missed the more superficial injuries. I ran my hands over my arm, then face. It seems that somehow, those were the only wounds I had, maybe a few cuts and scrapes, but that’s it. 

Laying my head back, I stared up at the ceiling. “Well, I’m up shite’s creek again.” I let out a loud sigh. “But this seems a bit more dire than usual, old girl.” 

As I was about to spiral into another self-pity session, I was started out of it with the door opening. In stepped a familiar face: Ana, one of the original founders of Overwatch. She was an impressive woman. I remember when I first met her, her steely eyes and formidable nature led me to instantly admire her. 

The total opposite of me: In control at all times, commanding respect, an unwavering moral compass. AND she was able to have a family. Granted, it wasn’t exactly in a good place, from what I heard. But still there. She had a daughter….the daughter that nearly killed me. Ah, what odd thoughts. It’s amazing how much...better a person Ana was than I. 

She walked up to me, her one eye staring down at what must have been a pathetic sight. She appeared as if a bird of prey was contemplating it’s capture. “Moira Deo’Rain….the infamous doctor of death.” I frowned at the title, taken from various headlines reporting my many...exploits. “You are...one piece of work. All in the name of science hmm?” She motioned to me “Look what that got you. So, what are we to do with the mad doctor, hmm?” 

I tried to sit up, clear my throat and defend myself, before I could do that. Ana held up a hand to silence me. “I am going to tell you what is going to happen: no prison will hold you. Your Talon friends would break you out. Hell, we wouldn’t be able to get anything to stick in this fresh new world. What with Overwatch technically being...unofficial. So...the choice came down to: let you make weapons for Talon, or..make weapons for us.” 

It took me a long time to process all that information. I blinked. “Ah...w-work...for Overwatch again?” the words felt alien, frankly, they felt idiotic. The very IDEA of someone like me, working with people like them...Angela.” I was going to utter some protes. But Ana silence me again. 

“Firstly, this was not my decision. And in fact...the majority of us voted to just end your miserable life. Only two of the commanders in Overwatch voted to spare you in this way. And we would have needed a unanimous decision to do so.” Ana cleared her throat, affixing me with a steely gaze. “Officially, you would be a researcher for the R&D department. And you would stay on site. To keep my eye on you.” She said with a smirk. I grumbled. Leaning in closer, Ana looked me dead in the eyes. 

“The other choice is: I hold down this morphine drip and you slip off to nothing. Fitting end for you, hmm?” I swallowed hard, glancing between the device feeding me painkillers and Ana’s face. Why not?

If I am being scientific about this. Why not? What value is there in me continuing to live? Family, friends...my work? I have none of that. There’s nothing that I do that in anyway adds value to the world. It might be preferable to just...let go. Long ago, in a first aid seminar that bored me to tears, I was introduced to the concept of dirty math. 

The idea that if there was a disaster, say, a train wreck. You perform triage based on various odds. Survivability being one. But also you make decisions based on who is more valuable to society. It’s a stark thought, to realize that I’d be last on that list. I let out a groan, closing my eyes. 

No, I can’t do that. I have to make this miserable life of mine worth something. Somehow, I have to do it. All of this failure and pain, and damage. It has to count for something. I have to at least try. 

I shook my head, meeting Ana’s gaze again. “Give me the papers, or whatever it is you need. Consider me part of the team!”


	4. A time to reap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a more internal chapter as Moira struggles with her recent changes in her life. She doubts if she deserves them...

It was a swift next few weeks. It all felt like a blur, like a dream. I was given a lab, an office, and very few oversights. It was odd how easily I slid into my work. Of course, the recovery got in the way of things. I was on a mostly-liquid diet. Mobility was limited, and I had very low energy. It was...odd to say the least, getting consideration and care from most of the nurses. 

One of the more jarring moments was when I was in physiotherapy. I stumbled as I was trying to walk again, and the nurse caught me. The physical contact made me nearly burst into tears. I hadn’t been touched in so long that it was like all my emotions nearly flooded to the surface. Aside from all that, it’s been a breeze. More like a whirlwind. Just...working. Working for the sake of doing more work. 

I was unable to leave the compound, so ordering online became my new best friend. I actually had a small amount of funds now, and I thought well why not? I ordered a few lamps, some knick knacks. Extra pillows and blankets so I could sleep on the couch in my office. Whatever small things I could get to just, feel a bit more human. 

On this day, I was called up for my weekly ‘checkup’ from Ana. I wasn’t sure why she kept these up, nor why I kept going to them. They seemed a bit pointless with the amount of surveillance I was under. But I did what I had to do, even if it was an annoyance. 

Walking up to her office, I frowned, wondering what was in store for me. I rapped on the door and waited. “Come in.” came Ana’s terse voice. As I entered I saw she had her face buried in paperwork. 

“Ah yes...hello, director.” I said politely. If I had a hat, I’d be wringing it in my hands right now. She looked up at me, setting her pen aside. Ana, the director of Overwatch, took a good long few moments iust, staring at me. In so many ways, she reminded me of a bird of prey. I imagine myself as a mouse in a field any time we’re in a room together. Eventually, she spoke. 

“You’ve been staying in the complex, keeping up with your reports. Winston tells me he’s excited for a few of your projects. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you seem to be doing good.” She looked back down at her papers, waving me off. “Carry on.” 

I blinked. That was it!? Last time she grilled me over all my online shopping. I guess it wasn’t as important now, or maybe she just wanted to torture me with silence. I cleared my throat. But decided to just turn and leave. No dammit, I couldn't go, not yet. 

I stopped at her door, resting my hand on the frame. The question had been burning in my mind since I came back to Overwatch. “Ana.” I turned to face the woman who, back in that hospital, offered me a choice. I thought of all this, of joining Overwatch, the good guys, the bright shining heroes. She had sat back in her chair, many stacks of paperwork facing her, looking up at me. 

“Hmm?” She half mumbled. I fidgeted. 

“What would you have done, were this totally in your hands to decide? Were you there? Were you the one who found me?”

“I would’ve put a bullet in you, Moira.” She answered coldly. I felt my stomach twist, not like I didn’t expect it. I nodded, and as much as I wanted to leave, to go back to my lab and never come out again, I forced the other question past my lips. I felt curiosity drive me to take a step back into the office. It was my curiosity that got me into trouble more often than not. 

“So, the question is...You said that two of the Overwatch members voted to keep me alive. Who here was vouching for me, and why?” 

“Why do you care? You’re here. Now go.” Ana waved me off, and I knew better than to push things. 

I stepped out of the office, heading right for the elevators. I had no idea what was going on. The past three months has been a dizzying haze. Another chance. But a chance to do what? I let out a breath as I got in and punched the button for Sub-Basement seven. Down in the lowest depths of R&D that’s where I belonged. No. A lie. 

Where I really belong is six feet under. 

So why wasn’t I? It certainly was a question I’ve been asking for the past year. I’ve been on a downward spiral for over a decade now. First the paper, then losing all my funding, then I had my first saving grace: Blackwatch. I looked down at my disfigured hand. Of course I pissed that down my leg. Then Overwatch fell, my marriage with it, and once the news broke of my involvement with Talon...I lost my family. 

It had been seven years, and the wound still felt fresh. As much as I acted like my family was an annoyance, it was also a massive part of my life. One that had been cut from me in one swift stroke. It felt like a missing limb, phantom pain. An ache I could not alleviate. 

The doors swished open as I got to my destination, and I let out a silent prayer that no one else had got on. Stumbling into my lab, I clicked on the lights. This was where I belonged. But not what I deserved. I grit my teeth. That was the logic loop I’d been caught in these past few months. 

I worked with Talon once Overwatch fell. The cause wasn’t much for me, it was...a lovely pipedream to believe in. And Akande is an intelligent man. He is good, purely so. Good, but pragmatic. I let out a snort as I started to check over my experiments. It was amusing to me that at one time in my life, I thought I WAS like him: A good person who just did what needed to be done. 

But years ago I accepted the truth: I’m just an evil bastard who can’t feel any sense of morality. 

That brings me back to the loop: I don't deserve any of this. But I want it. I ran with Talon and was wounded on a mission, then Overwatch captured me. I remember thinking ‘this is finally it.’ I finally was going to face my judgement. But somehow, somehow, I was spared. For some bizarre reason, the newly-reformed Overwatch decided to recruit me. 

Now, this is where I find myself. In a bright, sleek, modern facility. With all the resources I could ask for. My perfect life, my dream, marred now by years of evil and sin. So I stand here, checking over my readings, and thinking about how very little I deserve all of this. 

Ana’s words rang in my mind. “We recruited you because it’s either you make weapons for us, or Talon.” I got the message, loud and clear: Either I work for good, or I get put down. Why didn’t I accept option two? 

Surely, logic would dictate that my removal from this world is the most positive action that could occur. It still hurt to realize that. The pain of realizing that your absence causes less harm. That you are a cancer upon all who come across you. I let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose. 

Nothing was right. Even things that brought me joy were too hard to grasp. Even work had become arduous and painful. Again, this might be what I deserve: misery. 

A loud buzzing shook me from my rapidly-swirling thoughts. “Jesus!” I yelled aloud, it was the comm unit. I fumbled for it, then clicked the button. God, I was an old woman with these things. “Oh, um...hello?” I tried. 

“Moira.” It was Angela’s voice. The first time I’d heard it in years. I felt my throat dry up. 

“Angela.” I managed to croak out. 

“We’re short staffed, you have medical training. Report to medbay, we need extra hands.” She said curtly. Before I could protest that I was not, in fact, a medical doctor (Not like she didn’t know) she hung up. I stared at the device, then sighed. Of course, this feels very much fitting with my life right now. 

Stuffing the comm unit in my lab coat pocket, I marched back to the elevators. I’ve done a great many stupid things in my life. But of them all I want to say that checking myself out in the mirror was one of the top ones. To even bother neatening up for Angela is absolute, outright stupidity. She despises me. Yet here I am, doing just that. 

I frowned. I look like hell: Bags under my eyes, blotchy skin, thin lips. I’ve never been in danger of winning any beauty contests, but it was clear these past few months of stress and neglect were catching up to me. 

As I straightened my tie, I swear, I could feel Angela’s hands doing it for me. I bit my lip. Our mornings used to be so blissful. The memory of her neatening my collar, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss me goodbye. I let out a ragged breath, the pain was still fresh. The loss is so raw. It’d been seven years for god’s sake...I must win some award for most pathetic ex in existence if my emotions are still this raw. 

All of this was amplified by the concrete knowledge that she’d moved on. Easily. Of course, it’s not like she lost much. I sucked in a breath and stopped it. Pushing the memories and thoughts aside. Professional, I must be professional and calm. Go in, help the staff, promptly leave. I huffed. Plans initiated. I stepped out into the corridor. 

The way to medbay was well known by me. If I’m being honest, I half-made this trip many times. I had intended to see Angela the moment I came back here. I wanted to apologize, beg for forgiveness, maybe yell? I wasn’t exactly sure what I would even say to her, but I kept trying to approach her. I wasn’t sure WHY I kept trying. Maybe I just needed to see her again. Oh her eyes, her soft hair. I stopped in my tracks, fear gripping my heart tight. I shook the thoughts from my mind. No, stop!

With great effort, I started walking again. One step at a time, and with great effort. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, it was close. Angela. Dammit, seven years and I’m not over her!? That has to be some kind of world record, I swear! Never before in my life have I needed a drink more than I did right now in this moment.   
‘I can do this.’ I murmured to myself, nodding my head sharply. ‘Then do it.’ I stepped into medbay.


	5. Get that work, make that work work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira stumbles into a med-bay emergency and ends up meeting someone who might alter her life...if she plays her cards right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! I’m just going to post this one, even though I’m NOT happy with the sentence structure and flow, but I just have not been able to really go over it the way I’d like to. In this chapter we will meet Ashe, a character in OW I’ve come to love. The rough-and-tumble cowgirl is a fun character type to play with. Now, chapter 6 might take some time, so I hope everyone can be patient with me. I’m honestly not sure where this story will be going, but I’m hoping to give Moira some kind of good at the end of all this!

The clear doors parted as I stepped into Overwatch’s medbay. The clean, hyper-modern facility had been thrust into calculated chaos. The well-trained staff was rushing around, treating the about half-dozen agents. I noted that it looked like a failed mission, and my mind wandered over to the possibility of it being my weapons that did this. 

I walked up to the head nurse, and introduced myself. Ah, there’s the look. A mix of pity and contempt. I’d become so accustomed to it. ‘Don’t worry sir, I’d rather not be me too.’ I thought to myself. He signed me in, then gave me a briefing on what exactly we were facing:

Apparently a strike team had just returned, and with many injuries it seemed. It was no surprise that I was called in for this. With Angela in surgery and the other doctors busy, they were short-staffed enough to call me. As I looked around for what to do, I spotted Lena sitting on an examination table. Of all the people I’d met, Lena held the unique distinction of being somewhat nice to me. I emphasize, ‘somewhat’ here.

“Lena, you were on the mission?” I asked, walking up, I slipped on a pair of gloves and started an examination. Lena lifted her head, she looked tired and a bit weary, but her smile gave me some relief. Seeing her generally affable nature, even when injured, it was easy to see why she was so well liked. 

“Oh, Moira!” She chirped, her eyes widening a bit. “Weird to see you up here, well, weird to see you anywhere!” Despite the slight barb, I found myself playing along, I shrugged as I started to examine her wound. 

“Laceration, outer thigh, likely from a glancing gunshot.” I looked up to see her smirking. “Lucky Lena.” I added, standing back up to clear the space between us. 

“Yeah well, I ooze luck doc.” She took a moment to regard me. “Good to see you working for the good guys again. Here’s hoping it sticks.” I looked at her, giving her a nod. 

“Thank you Lena.” I said as I reached for the suture machine, a small sleek device that used surgical staples to bind wounds. “Your kindness is not needed, but appreciated. In fact...It makes the next step a bit harder to do.” I cleaned and disinfected the wounds, then started to close it. Lena, to her credit, did not flinch. 

Once I was finished with Lena, one of the other attendants spotted me. I walked over to them and handed Lena’s paperwork over. After a few quick words, I discovered that Angela was in surgery. Good. Well, I mean bad for the sod who needed it, but it was possible we would not run into each other. My heart sank a bit, it was hard to tell if I was happy or sad over that development.

I was pointed to another agent to patch up. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t even notice them. I just sat on the stool beside the medical bed they were sitting on. I turned to the sink, washed my hands, reapplied gloves and turned back to examine the wound. Going through the motions was a bit of a trap, I wasn’t even paying attention to what I was doing “Ow! Hey, watchit doc!” The voice snapped me back to reality. 

Looking up from the wound on her forearm, I finally noticed her. Fighting off the little flash of irritation from her having interrupted my thoughts, I tried to gather myself. She was...very pretty. She actually looked closer to my age. A rare thing in my life. It always seemed like I was the eldest in any given group. She had sharp, pretty features, pale skin and red eyes. Her face was framed with soft white hair. Or it would be pure white save for the dirt and grime. She looked like she’d been through a rough time, but her face seemed calm and unconcerned. 

“Oh, uh, sorry.” I stammered. The lack of pigmentation along with the eyes, I drew my conclusion, Albinism. The one case in which someone has paler skin than I. It was kind of an amusing thought. “Ah, well there you go, all patched up.” I said, cutting the thread and tying off the stitches, not great, but then again neither was I. 

“Yeah, thanks doc...hey, I ain’t seen you around here. How do I know you didn’t just walk off the street?” I suppressed a laugh. When was the last time I’d done that? Laugh? Felt like centuries. 

“No, no I’m from R&D. Moira O’Deorain.” I said with what I hoped was a decent smile. I realized just now that I did not brush my teeth this morning. Perfect. She took my hand, shaking it lightly. 

“Ashe, just Ashe. Pleased to meet you doc, so what do you do here?” She smiled. It was a much better smile than mine. I coughed into my hand. 

“Oh well um, weapons development, mostly.” I said quietly. Ashe leaned back, looking at me with curiosity. Her eyes were so piercing, but they didn’t feel the way most looks I got did. It was like she was just taking me in, not judging. 

“oh...THAT Moira! Huh, thought you’d be dead by now.” It was hard to articulate, but a small part of me had hoped she simply did not recognize me. I sighed and nodded. 

“Yes, well I thought similar…” I admitted sheepishly. Ashe just chuckled at that. 

“Eh, well you got in here, count your blessings.” I gave her a weak smile. It was a nice comment, and her voice was smooth. It was...lovely. 

“At any rate, you’ll be alright in no time Ashe, I’ll make sure to get your recovery paperwork filed. Rest here for an hour, then talk to the duty nurse about your release.” I stood up and turned to go. Holding the clipboard to my chest like a school girl clinging to her binder. I could feel her eyes on me, but I wasn’t really sure what emotion that evoked at the moment. 

The next few hours seemed to pass in a blur. I wasn’t even thinking of Angela, as odd as that might be. All I could think of were the words of that woman. ‘Count your blessings.’ she said, it was so simple, so perfect. Perhaps I could at least try to take her advice? It was silly, I’d just met someone who pushed all of my thoughts and worries aside. And I’d only exchanged a handful of words with her. 

Once all of the agents had been seen to, I took my leave. It’s best not to push my luck, and Angela could be out of surgery at any moment. I decided that I am wholly unable to see her today. I mean,I am unsure if I could any other day, but just...not today for sure. I needed to rest, I needed my lab. I just...needed to be alone and think. Or drink. If I’m being fully honest with myself, it’s drink. 

I made it back to my lab with no event. Thank god. As I made my way in, I headed immediately for my office, and truthfully, for the liquor cabinet. I passed my desk, stopping as I saw a framed picture on it. 

I never had much time for sentiment, and as such, most of my work desks haven’t had much in the way of personal touches. Over the years however, I’ve kept two things: One was a framed picture of me and my family, taken on vacation when I was about nineteen. I looked to be an absolute grouch. Wearing a sweater that somehow was always too big. I picked it up, smiling at the image. 

All those years ago, I was so bright and hopeful. I had many things, but just couldn't see it. I had potential, passion, innocence. I had my family, and I had...so very much. For years, my family endured my fall from grace. They patiently put up with paper after controversial paper. They accepted all the times the media dragged my evils into the light of day. They even took me in after it all fell apart. After the divorce. But, it was my falling in with Talon- no, my choice to join Talon, that was the last straw. Last summer they cut ties. Asked me to, well, not contact them. 

Back then I was so caught up in my cause that I really didn't care. I was too busy looking blindly forward. Still deluding myself that I could somehow save humanity with my idiotic notions. Now though, after that mission, after I spent time in the hospital alone with only my thoughts. Well, that altered things. All I can see now is all the things I’ve lost, all of them. And all for nothing. I sighed and put the photograph down. 

The other object that occupied a spot on my desk was more unusual: The menu from a restaurant in Amsterdam. It was where I proposed to Angela. Where she accepted. I had the menu framed sometime after. To this day I am unsure weather or not it was a romantic or stupid gesture. 

Suddenly, all my ambition for pretty much anything faded away. I slunk over to the couch on the far end of my office, flopped onto it, rolled onto my back, and stared at the ceiling. It was getting harder and harder to find that spark again, my motivation. More and more I just felt as if I was a waste of space than anything else. My thoughts were interrupted with a buzzing. It was my comm unit. 

Digging it out of my lab coat pocket, I looked at it. It was a text from Angela. 

Thank you 

Despite everything, I smiled. After a moment of thought, I texted back: 

You are always welcome, Dr. Ziegler. 

Somehow, at some point, I felt my eyes grow heavy. Well it’s not like sleeping on duty was the worst of my crimes.


	6. Chapter 6: Everything comes out in the wash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Took me a bit longer to get this out. Sorry about that. Things are weird lately and time holds no meaning. I've been trying to manage my writing more so hopefully more!)
> 
> Moira continues her journey to try and find a place in Overwatch. But she takes some time out treat herself to a break. Maybe she'll be able to start mending soon enough...

“Rise and shine, doc!” A cheery, but still smooth and low voice broke through my haze of sleep. I groaned, rubbed my face and sat up. What day was it!? Was it day or….I couldn’t remember what was going on, but I was sure I was asleep for a while. Oh right, there was a voice. I gave a huff in response. “Shit...you look like you went toe to toe with a couple badgers last night!”

“Last night!? What...day is it?” I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and looked up. It was that woman, Ashe. Her slender form leaned against my desk, wearing a daring grin and holding two cups of coffee, elixir of the gods. She simply chuckled at my comment. 

“Yeah, it’s the morning Doc. It’s Saturday, for the record.” She handed a coffee to me, which I took gratefully. Ashe then removed her hat and set it on the desk. “I got the impression that not many folks give two shits about you. And you looked pretty...frazzled when we met, so I thought I’d drop by and give you a pick-me-up.” Ugh, was I that obvious?! Well, I guess I was, oh well. 

I held the cup of coffee in my hands, savouring the warmth at first. It wasn’t exactly warm in my lab, and I didn’t bother to get the blanket out. So I had spent the night freezing and not even knowing it. The warm drink was like an oasis in the desert. Most appreciated. “I tried your room, but one of the agents told me you rarely sleep there! Heh, sounds about typical from what I gathered about you.” I looked back up at her, feeling a bit of irritation rise again. 

“And what exactly have ‘gathered’ in regard to me!?” I asked, raising a brow. As I waited for her to talk, I sipped my coffee. Ok, this was...a good cup. Ashe could probably see my reaction, as her smug smile told me it was clear I was enjoying this drink. 

“Yeah well, I learned you spent a lifetime gettin’ kicked around, dusted up, never trusted and ain’t exactly had the smoothest ride.” She answered with a nod, then sipped her drink as well. “Seems like a song I heard before, myself.”

I was going to say something rude to her, but her comments gave me pause. I stammered a bit, then sat up. No one’s ever said that to me before. Well...except for Angela, she was the first person in my life who really empathized and understood me. But was this newcomer just manipulating me? I took a moment to collect my thoughts, then spoke. “Well, I...am not sure how to take that.” I said with a flat expression, yawning and doing my best to neaten my hair. The coffee was...helping for certain. 

“Anyway, thought I’d just come in, see if yer ok. We’re two birds of a feather, us.” Ashe said, still looking at me as I recovered from my not-so-great sleep. 

“Mmm, well I appreciate-wait why do you say that?” I asked, looking up at her to meet those crimson eyes. 

“We both were on the other side, got kicked into Overwatch by uh, the director’s generous foot.” She explained, matter-of-factly. “I ain’t no saint, Doc. And I crossed Overwatch a few times, guess they just got lucky, or I did...either way I’m workin’ off my sentence here. Beats any old jail cell.” I simply nodded at that, then set the coffee cup on my desk, I got up to stretch. 

“Hmm, well, thank you Ashe, for coming to see me.” 

“No problem.” She said, shifting from one foot to the next. She sniffed. “You need a shower.” She stated, firmly. I also noted it wasn’t a question. “You even take one lately?” I blinked, then rubbed my face. 

“It’s been a while…” I admitted sheepishly. 

“Look, you’re stayin’ down here and I’m sure they’re ok with you just stickin’ to the grindstone and doing their work. But, doc, you’ve gotta take care of yourself. Ain’t no one else is gonna do it. When no one gives two shits about you, that’s when ya gotta focus on yerself.” She pushed off from the desk, walking over to the entrance of my office. “Have a good one, doc.” She then shot me a smile and walked out. 

I listened as her footsteps became more and more distant. She was right, I had to at least tend to the most base functions my body required. 

Well, it was Saturday, and technically I was off-duty. So there was no need for me to be in the lab. I got up, stretched, took my coffee and walked out of the office. I closed and locked the door then swiftly walked through the lab to the exit. 

I punched the button for the upper levels of the complex, the dormitories. It was time to take a step back. It had been a harrowing few days and I deserved a bit of a break. I sighed as the elevator arrived at its destination, stepped out and turned to walk towards my room. When was the last time I was up here?

The door to my room swished open at the tap of my ID card. I stepped in, drawing in a breath. Stale air, that’s not good. Like my office, I’d filled my room with various knick knacks. A few throw pillows on the small couch, a nice knitted blanket tossed over the back as well. I had a few scented candles, a nice standing lamp that threw off warm light, and a rotating fan. I clicked that on, then opened the window to let some air in. 

The room was clearly in need of some life, so I clicked on the lamp and turned on the TV. I usually had it tuned to the 24 hour news channel. Just to hear some voices, to make me feel less alone. With all that taken care of, I started to peel off my clothes. I felt horrid, sticky and gross. Sniffing my armpit, I let out an audible “oof.” of course I had to be seen like this by that woman. What an amazing turn of events. If there was an award for worst first impressions, I feel as if I was a lock. 

I started the shower, then stepped in. Even if the water wasn’t heated yet, I didn’t care. The shiver that jolted me out of my stupor was actually refreshing, then my muscles eased as the water warmed. I actually let out a groan of satisfaction at that. Ok...this whole ‘taking care of yourself’ thing might have merits. I took the time to wash the grime and filth off of me, perhaps it was more my own impressions. I’m not a slob, I bathe regularly. But perhaps sleeping on my couch in my clothes enhanced the impression of grossness. 

After I scrubbed myself clean, I made sure to wash and condition my hair. It was a nice feeling to take the moment and treat myself. I walked out of the bathroom, wearing my favorite bathrobe, and flopped onto my couch. The news was more of the same, and I smiled as a report on Overwatch came out. Of course, it was biased against the institution. I had to find amusement at the idea of me jumping from one illegal organization to the next. Well, at least this time I chose the right side. Or did I? I grumbled and smacked my forehead. “Out vile thoughts! No philosophy today! It’s a bloody Saturday, for Christ’s sake!” I groaned aloud. Then the rumble in my stomach brought me from those thoughts. “I just wanted to sit here and do nothing! It’s absolutely idiotic you require food, body! We’ve discussed this!” 

Despite my logical and sound arguments, my body continued to protest. I tried to think back on when I HAD eaten last. Alright, fair enough. I got up to rummage through my closet for an outfit to wear. I was honestly sick of looking like a slob. I might be an outsider, a failure, a washed-up scientist whose ship has LONG ago sailed...but dammit, I was going to look good doing it! 

My fingers ran along the choices of shirts and pants. I always sorted my outfits beforehand, it eased my indecision. The dark green pants sang to me, so I grabbed the hanger. A nice white button up, with slacks and matching green suspenders seemed a nice, festive outfit to wear. I could at least make myself look more dapper, despite not feeling that way. Once I was dressed, I spent a few minutes in front of the mirror getting some makeup on. I actually felt a smile tug at my lips once I was done. Not bad, Dr. O’Deorain!

By the time I got down to the mess hall it was close to twelve. So...while I did miss the morning rush, I did not miss the lunch one. Ah well. The effect of my clean-up still felt strong, so I strutted over to grab my tray and wait in line. Back straight, chin up, and make sure to assert oneself. It felt nice. 

I sat down at a table by the corner, not that I am ever a social butterfly, but it was my day off and I felt like spending it by myself. Simple breakfasts were generally what I preferred: Oatmeal, an orange, and a strong cup of coffee. As I started to poke away at my meal, the clank of a tray being set down drew my attention. 

“Well lookit you Moira! You clean up real nice!” Ashe sat down across from me, carefully setting her hat down on the table next to her. “Took some of my advice?” She asked, clicking her tongue. I looked down at her food. Burger and fries, with extra cheese and bacon. 

“That’s horribly unhealthy.” I said with a smirk. She just met my expression and leaned back in her chair. 

“And that right there is deflection, doc.” I scoffed. Smartass. 

“Yes, I did take your advice if you NEED to know...and yes, it greatly helped me. Thank you so much for it.” I tried my hardest not to answer in such a dry tone, but I couldn’t help it. Ashe seemed amused. 

“So...I’m takin’ it that if you stretch that comment to its logical conclusion...you might say…” 

“I’m not saying you were right Ashe.” I interrupted. She pointed her finger at me. 

“But ya just did!” I had to concede that point. I tried to pay more attention to my meal. 

“So, what brings you here?” 

“Yer more interesting than most of the do-gooders here. I got a day off...you got a day off…” She let that last part trail off, leaning on an elbow and eyeing my. I met her gaze, my perplexity must have shown clear on my face. “Moira. I’m askin’ you out on a date.” 

Of all the best responses to a romantic proposal, I highly doubt “Oh” would be at the top of any list. And yet, that’s all I managed to utter.


End file.
